


Always a Silver Lining

by LadyDrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Afterglow, Fuckbuddies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:37:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So. I think we should date.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always a Silver Lining

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by Anon: I'll poke you thousands times a day if that gets me at least one more amazing growley fic like the ones you write. they're so cute and great! How about writing one where it's Gabriel who's doing the confessing to the surprised crowley who had no idea?

“So,” Gabriel says, still catching his breath after yet another round of sex so good Crowley is forced to reconsider his top five. Possibly his top three. “I think we should date.”

Crowley stops trying to decide if his current level of afterglow merits third or fourth place to stare at Gabriel instead. “Are you having me on?”

Gabriel hauls himself up onto his elbow with some effort, making Crowley smile smugly. It’s a matter of deep personal pride to him to leave his partners not just jelly-legged, but jelly- _limbed_.

“I’m dead serious, Crowles. We have a thing here.”

“Yeah. It’s called sex. Excellent sex, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, and do you know why it’s so fucking amazing? It’s because it’s gotten all feels-y and stuff!”

“… and stuff.” Crowley can feel his face falling into its familiar scornful folds but almost loses it when Gabriel slams his head back down on the pillow with a groan of frustration. Crowley’s not eager to investigate why he gets such a kick out of riling Gabriel up, but he’s not deluding himself. It’s top notch entertainment.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, I’m trying to talk about feelings here.”

Crowley shudders. “Why the hell would you want to?”

“Because for some strange reason I like you, jerkface!”

It has to be a joke. Or post-orgasm induced temporary insanity. Because it. Makes. No. Sense.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. I know we’re not exactly spring chickens here, but even you shouldn’t be  _that_ hard of hearing.”

The pillow Crowley slams into Gabriel’s face is completely and utterly deserved. “Fuck off. I heard the words, they just don’t make sense. You don’t like me. This thing we have is not built on  _any_  kind of affection, in case you forgot.”

Gabriel looks uncomfortable, and wow, that is just unfair considering how much time and effort Crowley just put into making him look debauched and dazed. “Well guess what, asshole, affection happened. I’m sorry if that offends your no-strings-attached sensibilities here, but I can’t help it.” He crosses his arms over his chest with a harrumph, avoiding Crowley’s gaze.

Well. It’s not that Crowley hasn’t given at least passing thought to their general compatibility, but to go from there to dating is a jump he hadn’t even remotely considered. And considering how Gabriel’s face falls when he finally turns to look at Crowley again, it’s not hard to see on his face.

“You know what, forget I said it,” Gabriel backpeddles. “Fuckbuddies is fine. More than fine, hot  _damn_ , I think I  _ruptured_  something this time.”

Crowley let’s Gabriel babble, while he thinks it over. Would dating really be so bad? He doesn’t have the best track record with these things, but he’s not against the idea as such. He just honestly never expected it to be an option in an arrangement built almost entirely on physical chemistry and semi-hostile banter.

“We could give it a go,” he says before quite realizing it. “If it explodes in our faces, at least we already know the hatesex will be fantastic,” he adds with a shrug, even though the hopeful look on Gabriel’s face makes him pretty sure they won’t be getting any more of that.

“That’s why I like you, Crowley,” Gabriel beams. “Always a silver lining.”

“Shut up, I’m a cynical old fart and you shouldn’t apply idiocy like optimism to my character. It’s offensive and I will have none of it,” Crowley huffs.

“Oh shush, you are totally a closet optimist, don’t even deny it, honeybuns.”

Another pillow hits Gabriel square in the face.

End.


End file.
